The Dursleys Read the Sorcerer's Stone
by Mapleleaf40
Summary: During 4th year, the Dursleys' normal world is shattered when seven books about Harry Potter showed up in a package. How will the Dursleys react to Harry's adventures in the magical world? Rated T for minor language.
1. The Package

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights and ownership goes to J.K. Rowling. **

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The Package

In number four Privet Drive, the Dursleys, Vernon, Petunia, and their son Dudley, were all eating dinner in their spotless kitchen. Dudley's school ends earlier than Harry's and so they decided to celebrate Dudley's return by buying him presents and sweets before Harry gets back. However, this intention was all ruined when there was a knock (more banging than knocking) at the door. Petunia got up from the table wondering who could be visiting at a time like this.

She opened the door. Had she not covered her mouth, Petunia would have screamed. For there stood Vernon's sister, Marge holding a big package with her beloved pet bulldog, Ripper.

"Ah, Petunia," said, Marge balancing the package in her shovel-like hands. "Thought you'll never see me again, eh?"

Petunia didn't speak. She was too shocked. Vernon and Dudley came into the living room.

"Petunia," Vernon said glancing at his wife. "Who's at the door…?" He trailed off; for he too was surprised to see his sister here in his house. The last time Marge visited she had been blown up like a balloon by Harry.

Marge came in with Ripper padding behind her.

"Well? Aren't you going to say hello?" Marge demanded. She took one look at Dudley and ran forward to hug and kiss him.

"How's my Dudders? Has he been a good boy?"

She pulled back and in Dudley's hands were £20 notes.

"Aunt Marge," Dudley spluttered. "Why're you here?"

"Well, I thought I dropped by for another visit," boomed Marge.

The Dursleys looked at each other. She doesn't seem to remember what had happened on her last day here last year. That's because a bunch of _wizards_ had come and erased Marge's memories of her inflating and bopping around the ceiling.

"By the way, Marge," Petunia seemed to gotten over her surprise. "What's inside the box?"

"I don't know," Marge answered. "It was on my doorstep when I was leaving."

She put the box on the living room table. She then ripped open the package. The Dursleys all crammed to see what's inside, and were met by sheer disappointment. There were seven books. And to make matters worse there were all about _that boy_.

"Who would make books about that dirty ungrateful boy?" Marge asked looking disgustingly at the books.

Petunia picked up the books. Despite her hatred to the wizarding world, she was curious about Harry's world and what he was doing at_ that school_. It was then that Dudley noticed a note at the bottom of the package. He picked it up and read it aloud:

_Dear Dursley family,_

_These are seven books concerning your "unwanted family member" that I've had sent you to read. By the time you've finished reading this note, time will freeze. When you have finished the books, time will resume to its normal state. By the way, you might as well tell Marge the truth about Harry and his parents. But you can choose not to. Hey, it's your choice. She'll find out very soon anyway. Happy reading! _

_Anonymous_

Nobody had spoken when Dudley had finished. Vernon had gone to out to check if the note said about freezing time was true. And indeed it was. For everybody had stopped, frozen with time. Vernon came back looking white and ashen faced.

"It must be the works of those _freaks_," he said outraged.

"What about the boy and his no good parents?" Marge demanded looking at her brother suspiciously. "Vernon, Petunia, is there something you're hiding from me?"

Petunia sighed. "Let's just read them. The only way to unfreeze time is to finish reading those books. And Marge, you'll need to listen to the story because everything in the books is all true."

And with that she picked up the first book, The Sorcerer's Stone, turned to the first chapter and began to read.

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**Author's note: Hey everybody! So this is my first fanfic and I decided to do a "Dursley read the books" stories because there aren't many of them. There will be no wizards. I've read enough stories that have the Dursleys read the books but with a lot of wizards and witches. I had Aunt Marge thrown into the story because her reaction to the truth will be hilarious! This might be a slow (but not too slow) update 'cause of school. But it'll have some fast updates as well. Please read and review and tell me what you think. **


	2. The Boy Who Lived

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights and ownership goes to J.K. Rowling. **

**Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived**

**Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. **

"That's right," Vernon said. "We're a perfectly normal family."

"Right, Vernon," Marge agreed. "Not like those good-for-nothing drunks."

Petunia rolled her eyes. Marge is such a hypocrite, she thought as she continued to read.

**They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. **

Vernon nodded at this.

Dudley, even though he loved his life, thought it a bit boring.

**Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. **

Marge looked proudly at her brother, who looked smug.

**He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. **

**The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. **

"Yes, my Dinky Duddydums is such an angel," Petunia looked at her son lovingly.

"Mum..." Dudley blushed. Why did she keep calling him those baby names? He was fourteen, for God's sake!

**The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. **

Marge couldn't blame them. Who would want anyone to find out about _them_?

**Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. **

Marge looked at Petunia sympathetically. "I don't blame you, Petunia. I wouldn't want _her _as a sister either."

"Yes," Petunia muttered. But she didn't really mean it. She was starting to have her regrets.

**The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that. **

Too late now_, _Vernon thought sadly.

**When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. **

So it's_ that_ day, Petunia thought miserably. This was the day Lily had died.

Dudley, Marge, and even Ripper looked confused. Why's there an owl out in the day?

**At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive. It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar – a cat reading a map. **

Ripper, who was down on his belly, suddenly jumped up, a cat reading a map? Did Petunia read the book right? He looked at Marge and Dudley to see if they understood. Apparently they didn't, as they both had a puzzled look on their faces.

**For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen – then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick in the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. **

Ripper whined. Oh, how he longed to chase that cat up a tree, just like he did to Harry!

**As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive – no,**_** looking**_** at the sign; cats couldn't read maps **_**or **_**signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. **

Marge snorted. "Really, people actually came up with those getups? How pathetic!"

Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley looked at each other. Just imaging Marge's reaction to the truth made them shudder. Even Ripper sensed something bad was going to happen.

**Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes – the getups you saw on young people! **

Marge nodded her head. "Right you are, Vernon. Young people these days don't have any fashion sense at all!"

"Well, of course I'm right!"

You mean _wizards_ don't have any fashion sense, Petunia wanted to say, but wisely kept her mouth shut.

**He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him!**

Dudley narrowed his piggy eyes. He knew what those people were, but what were they whispering about? He wanted to find out. 

**But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt – these people were obviously collecting for something…yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings Parking lot, his mind back on drills. **

Dudley looked at his father in amazement. Dad has a one track mind, he thought.

**Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. **_**He **_**didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead.**

"Those damn owls," Vernon growled. "And damn those freaks too!"

"Damn who?" Marge asked.

Instead of answering he said, "Petunia, keep reading."

**Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery. **

Vernon had suddenly remembered what happened next, for he had a disgusted look on his face.

**He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. **

"What are they whispering about?" Dudley demanded looking at his mother.

"Well, if you let me finish reading, dear," Petunia said. "You'll find out."

"Oh," Dudley looked a little embarrassed. "Keep reading, then"

**It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. "The Potters, that's right, that's what I head –"** **"– yes, their son, Harry –"**

"Why would _anyone _want to talk about those no-good, lazy scoundrels?" Marge laughed nastily.

"You'll know if you stop interrupting," Petunia said through gritted teeth. Oh, how she hated Marge.

Marge looked like she'd wanted to protest but she shrugged it off.

**Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. **

Petunia looked at Vernon. _Why didn't he tell me? _

As though Vernon had read her mind (which is impossible for him to do) he shrugged helplessly.

Petunia sighed and continued reading.

**He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking…no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew **_**was**_** called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey or Harold.**

"Those names are worse than Harry's," Petunia shuddered. Who would name their child those names?

**There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her – if **_**he'd **_**had a sister like that…but all the same, those people in cloaks…**

Marge narrowed her eyes. She couldn't make any sense of the connection between _her_ and those people in cloaks.

**He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. "Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. **

"If I had done that, I wouldn't even apologize," Marge huffed.

Petunia shook her head and kept reading.

**It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face spilt into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" **

"Who's this "You-Know-Who" guy?" Vernon grunted disdainfully.

"What's a Muggle?" Dudley asked.

"Non-magical folks like us," Petunia whispers in his ear. However, she didn't answer Vernon, because she, herself, doesn't really know a lot about the wizard. She knew he was evil and that was it.

Marge shook her head. "What the hell is going on?"

**And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off. Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. **

I've been hugged by a wizard, Vernon thought angrily.

Ripper wondered how the old man managed to get his arms around Vernon. He was…_big_ after all.

**He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imaging things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination. **

"I don't approve of that nonsense either," Marge agreed.

And that's why it's so boring here, Dudley thought rolling his eyes.

**As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw – and it didn't improve his mood – was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. **

Seriously, what was that cat doing? Ripper thought.

"**Shoo! said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior?**

No, Ripper thought. He knew normal cat behavior when he saw one and this wasn't one of them.

**Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.**

Petunia glared at Vernon and he shrunk into the armchair he was sitting in.

**Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: **

"Oh, no…" Vernon groaned. He remembered what happened on the news, even to this day.

"**And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" **

"Those effin owls!" Vernon growled.

"**Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."**

Marge had known there were shooting stars on that day. She saw it on the news. She was shocked for a few minutes then she dismissed it as a meteor shower.

Dudley looked shocked. Wizards could make shooting stars? Now that's so cool!

**Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er – Petunia, dear – you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"**

"I really doubt that," Marge said coldly. "I feel very sorry for you, Petunia, for having a sister like that."

"Thanks," Petunia said trying to keep the anger out of her voice. How could Marge judge a person without even knowing or seen them? No, she was being a hypocrite. She had judged people all her life. Petunia looked down at the books on the table. Maybe they'll help her get over her jealousy and bitterness.

**As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister. "No," she said sharply. "Why?" "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls…shooting stars…and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…" "**_**So**_**" snapped Mrs. Dursley. "Well, I just thought…maybe…it was something to do with…you know…**_**her **_**crowd." **

"Ah, so she's in some gang, then, eh?" said Marge icily. "I'm not surprised."

**Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son – he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?" "I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly. "What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?" "Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me." "Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree." **

"Dudley is a better name," Petunia said looking at her son fondly.

"It's better than those pet names," Dudley muttered under his breath.

**He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet drive as though it were waiting for something.**

Ripper shook his head. There was something weird about that cat…

**Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did…if it got out that they were related to a pair of – **

"Freaks!" Vernon yelled finishing the sentence.

**well, he didn't think he could bear it. The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters **_**were**_** involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind…**

"So, there are more people like _them_ out there?" Marge asked glancing at Petunia.

Instead of her answering, Dudley did it for her, well if you can call it an answer, "Well, I guess you can say that, Aunt Marge."

**He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on – he yawned and turned over – it couldn't affect **_**them**_**…How very wrong he was. **

Vernon sighed. He wished he were right about that.

**Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.**

Ripper knew that cat no was ordinary cat, for no cat can sit like that all day.

"What's up with that cat?" Dudley asked curiously.

"I don't know sweetie," Petunia replied. "Maybe we'll find out."

**A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. **

Maybe the cat was waiting for him, Ripper thought. In a few sentences he will be proven right about the cat.

**Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. **

"Great, another weirdo," Marge rolled her eyes. "That's just what we needed."

**His eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. **

"He's been in a fight or something?" Dudley asked stupidly.

Petunia shrugged and read on.

**This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known." **

"What should he have known?" Dudley asked. Of course he wasn't expecting an answer.

**He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. **

Petunia looked bewildered. She never thought Dumbledore was a smoker.

**He flicked it open, held it up in the air and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. **

"WHAT KIND OF FREAK MAGIC IS THAT!?" Vernon cried. He was outraged that magic was done near his home.

"Wait," Marge said looking at the Dursleys with wide eyes. "What do you mean by magic?"

Petunia sighed. "Look, Marge. There's something we've been hiding from you for years." She paused uneasily. "You see, Albus Dumbledore is a…_wizard_."

"Wizard?"

"Yes, Marge. Wizards and witches exist in the world. In the wizarding world, that is. My sister, Lily, was a witch. Her husband was a wizard and their son is also a wizard. They are, or Lily's and James's case _were_ magical.

"But...," Marge stuttered. "There's no such thing as magic! And there's no way _that boy_ is a wizard!"

"You could deny the truth all you want, Marge," Petunia said in a surprisingly cold voice. "But face it; the evidence is right in your face."

Marge looked dumbfounded. While Dudley, Vernon, and even Ripper stared at Petunia in shock, she let out a deep breath and continued reading.

**He clicked it again – the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. **

Petunia gasped. She was not beady-eyed!

**Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." **

"He's talking to that cat?" Vernon asked slowly.

"Professor McGonagall?" Dudley asked confused.

**He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. **

"WHAT THE HELL!?" Marge yelled. She didn't actually believe Petunia when she said there were wizards and witches in the world. But now…

"Wait a minute," Dudley raised a beefy hand. "Those people can turn into animals?" He didn't want to admit it, but he thought it was pretty cool to shape shift into animals.

Petunia sniffed disdainfully. Turning into animals? How disgusting!

**She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked. "My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." "You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," Professor McGonagall said. **

"No one asked her to!" Vernon bellowed. He was angry that freaks were spying on him and his family.

"**All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." **

"Why are they celebrating?" Dudley asked.

"I don't know," Marge said coolly. "And I don't care."

"**Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no – even Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." **

Vernon and Petunia glanced out each other nervously. Stuff like those can't be on their news. If it gets out that they were connected with the freaks, it'll ruin them.

**She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls…shooting stars…Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent – I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense." "You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years." **

"Eleven years of what?" Dudley asked impatiently.

"**I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors." She threw a sharp look, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really **_**has **_**gone, Dumbledore?" **

It was clear to Petunia that this Professor McGonagall person didn't believe the rumors until Dumbledore says it's true.

"**It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?" "A **_**what**_**?" "A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of." **

"Why would anyone eat those?" Marge groaned. She hated lemon drops.

"What's a Muggle?" Vernon asked.

Dudley answered, "Non magical people."

"**No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who **_**has **_**gone –" "My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: **_**Voldemort**_**." Professor McGonagall flinched, **

"Cowards," Vernon said disdainfully. "Too scared to say a name."

"Right, Vernon," Marge agreed. "What kind of name is 'Voldemort' anyway?"

**but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who'. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name." "I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, **_**Voldemort**_**, was frightened of." "You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have." "Only because you're too – well – **_**noble **_**to use them. "It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." **

Dudley couldn't help but chuckle. Too much information Dumbledore, he thought.

**Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the **_**rumors**_** that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" **

Dudley frowned. He'd never asked Harry how Voldemort survived. He never asked him how his parents had died. Why should he care? But a tiny part of Dudley did.

**It seemed that Professor McGonagall had not reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer. "What they're **_**saying**_**," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they're – **_**dead**_**." **

"And good riddance," Marge huffed.

Petunia stifled a sop. She missed her little sister. Lily was too young to die.

Dudley felt a tiny wave of shame. He had always teased Harry about having no parents. And now he knew why. He shook his head impatiently. Why did he even care? It's not as if he cared about the weakling or his parents.

Ripper had always wondered why the boy was living with the Dursleys. He had heard Marge talking about them being drunks who got themselves killed in a car crash. Now he knew differently.

**Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James…I can't believe it…I didn't want to believe it…Oh, Albus…"**

"Why do _they _care so much for _them_?" Marge glared at the book in Petunia's hands. "They got what they deserved!"

Vernon silently agreed. He didn't care how or why they died. They were freaks anyway.

**Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know…I know…" he said heavily. Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke – and that's why he's gone." **

"It would have been better if he was killed." Marge had an evil gleam in her eyes.

**Dumbledore nodded glumly. "It's – it's **_**true**_**?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done…all the people he's killed…he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding…of all the things to stop him…but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?" **

Petunia, Dudley, and even Ripper wanted to know how Harry survived as well. Vernon looked bored and Marge yawned.

"**We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge.**

Dudley looked down at his own watch. It was golden, but it didn't have the little planet things on it. He tried to image what it was like having a watch like that, showing it off to kids at his school.

"Well, what do you know," Petunia rolled her eyes. "The freaks have abnormal watches. Why am I not surprised?"

**It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"**

Dudley frowned. Hagrid…why does that name sounds familiar?

"**Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me **_**why**_** you're here, of all places?" "I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."**

"_Family_," Vernon looked disgusted. "We're not _his _family."

"**You don't mean – you **_**can't **_**mean the people who live **_**here**_**?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore – you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two who are less like us. And they've got this son – I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. **

Dudley blushed. He doesn't remember him doing that to his mother.

**Harry Potter come and live here!" "It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter." "A letter? repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter?**

For the first time in her life, Petunia agreed with the witch. The letter didn't help much.

**These people will never understand him! He'll be famous – a legend – **

"He's famous," Marge asked greedily. Maybe he had money somewhere…Vernon was thinking the same thing.

**I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future – there will be books written about Harry – every child in our world will know his name!" "Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"**

Petunia had to admit, Dumbledore had a point. She remembered when Lily had introduced James to her parents. James had that arrogant gleam in his eyes.

**Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes – yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though he might be hiding Harry underneath it. "Hagrid's bringing him."**

That name, Dudley thought. It was so familiar to him, yet he doesn't remember who this Hagrid guy is.

"**You think it – **_**wise**_** – to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" "I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore. "I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to – what was that?" A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky – and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.**

Marge, Ripper, and the Dursleys all shared a surprised look. A flying motorcycle? It couldn't be! Dudley wondered what it'll be like to own a flying motorcycle.

**If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so **_**wild**_** – long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. **

Dudley shuddered. Now he remembered who Hagrid was. He was the man who gave him a pig's tail! Ripper's eyes were wide. And he thought Vernon was the biggest man he'd ever seen!

**In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets. "Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?" "Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir." "No problems, were there?" "No, sir – house was almost destroyed,**

Petunia gave a little gasp. Just how gruesomely did Voldemort killed the Potters? She didn't want to know.

**but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. **

"So, that's how the boy got that ugly scar," said Marge looking uninterested.

"**Is that where –? whispered Professor McGonagall. "Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever." "Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?" "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. **

"Too much information again," Dudley muttered. However, he wondered how Dumbledore had gotten that scar.

**Well – give him here, Hagrid – we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house. "Could I – could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog. **

"Filthy beast," Vernon growled.

"**Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!" "S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it – Lily an' James dead – an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles –" "Yes, yes it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. **

"That's trespassing!" Marge cried angrily. "We should have him arrested and sentenced to death!"

"Marge, he's a _wizard_," Petunia said slowly. "He can easily get out with _magic_."

Marge looked disappointed.

**He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blanket, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out. **

So, that's how Harry got into the Dursleys' household, Ripper thought.

"**Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations." "Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall – Professor Dumbledore, sir." "Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. **

"I want a flying motorcycle!" Dudley cried excitedly.

Petunia gave her son a look of disapproval but Dudley didn't notice. Vernon and Petunia gave each other worried looks.

"**I shall see you see, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four. "Good luck, Harry" he murmured.**

"Why does that dirty boy need luck?" Marge asked narrowing her eyes. "All he brings here is bad luck."

**He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, **

Petunia shook her head. That was the most surprising thing in her life, finding baby Harry on her doorstep.

**nor that he would spend the next few weeks being podded and pinched by his cousin Dudley…He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter – the boy who lived!"**

"That's the end of the chapter," Petunia said closing the book. "Who wants to read next?"

"Don't ask me to read," Marge sniffed. "I'm not going to read about that disgraceful swine and his freaky world."

"I will," Dudley grabbed the book from Petunia, opened it to chapter two and began to read.

**Author's note: Phew! Finished with this chapter! I hope the characters weren't too OOC. I will be adding Ripper's thoughts and feelings as well. So, I'll be doing a Hunger Games read the Harry Potter books after I do the Dursleys read the Sorcerer's Stone (maybe after I finished with the whole Dursleys read the books). So, what characters should I be adding? I know I'm adding Katniss, Peeta, Gale, Prim, and Haymitch. But who else would join in the reading? You tell me! Read and review if you enjoyed it!**


	3. The Vanishing Glass

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. They all belong to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: The Vanishing Glass<strong>

**Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all.**

"That's just the way we liked it," Vernon said looking proud.

"That's right, dear." Petunia agreed.

Dudley shrugged. He didn't really mind Privet Drive, but it did need a few changes every now and then.

**The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets –**

Dudley groaned. Why did his parents made him wear that, he didn't know.

**but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother.**

Dudley sighed. Those were all fun back then, but now it just got…boring.

"You're lives were perfect," Marge said sadly. "Until that boy came along and ruined everything."

**The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. Yet harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day. "Up! Get up! Now!" Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. "Up!" she screeched. **

"I do not screech!" Petunia said angrily.

"Of course, you don't dear," Vernon said patting Petunia's hand.

**Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. **

"He remembers that?" Dudley asked his eyes wide. He was secretly impressed.

Petunia frowned. How did he remember that event? He was only a baby when it happened.

**He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before. His aunt was back outside the door. "Are you up yet?" she demanded. "Nearly," said Harry. "Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." Harry groaned. "What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door. "Nothing, nothing…" Dudley's birthday – how could he have forgotten?**

"Happy birthday, Dudley," Marge smiled at her nephew.

"Aunt Marge, this happened three years ago." Dudley said rolling his eyes.

"Oh."

**Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for his socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.**

Petunia shuddered. Maybe they went a little too far in squashing the magic out of Harry…

"Good," Marge huffed. "I would have him in the cupboard as well. No, better yet, have him in the orphanage."

Ripper knew the Dursleys' hated Harry and he, himself, disliked him (he doesn't _hate _Harry, he just don't like him) but c'mon! Putting him in the cupboard was a little too much.

**When he dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise –**

"My baby's not fat," Petunia cried. "He's just big boned!"

She jumped up from the sofa and hugged Dudley.

"Mum, please," Dudley turned red. "Let me finish reading."

"Oh, sorry, dear,"

**unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was.**

"And Dudley could kick the boy's sissy little arse any day," Marge cried proudly.

For some reason, Dudley really doubted that.

**Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. **

"Ugly little boy," Vernon sneered.

**He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it. "In the car crash when your parents died," she said. "And don't ask questions."**

Ripper shook his head. Isn't asking questions something kids were supposed to do?

_**Don't ask questions**_** – that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon. "Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting. About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way – all over the place.**

Petunia shook her head, dismayed. If she can't tame that hair nobody can.

**Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel – Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.**

"That disgraceful swine!" Vernon growled his face turning red. "How dare he insult Dudley!"

"He's just jealous because our Dudders is better than him," Marge barked.

Just you wait, Harry, Dudley thought angrily, you'll wish you were never born!

**Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell. "Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year." "Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy." "All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over. **

Dudley fell silent. Was he really that much of a spoiled brat?

"What's wrong Dudley?" Petunia asked looking at her son worryingly.

"Nothing, Mum," he answered. "I'm fine." He read on.

**Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another **_**two**_** presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? **_**Two**_** more presents. Is that all right?" Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty…thirty…"**

Dudley looked dismayed. Good Lord, can't he even count?

"**Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia. "Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then." Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. ' Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.**

Marge looked proudly at Dudley. "Just you wait," she said. "You'll be as successful as your father someday." Unlike that other boy and his parents she thought meanly.

Dudley smiled. "Thanks."

**At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried. "Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction. **

"Mrs. Figg?" Marge asked. "Who's she?"

"She's that old cat lady who lives two streets away from us," Vernon answered.

Marge wrinkled her nose. "Cats?" she asked, instantly disliking Mrs. Figg. She hated cats.

"Mrs. Figg has a lot of cats," Dudley replied. "Some of them look really weird." He had seen some of the cats Mrs. Figg has. They didn't like Dudley or the Dursleys as they often hiss at them.

Ripper barked happily. Maybe he could chase them when time unfreezes.

**Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever own. **

Well, at least she's torturing Harry with her cats, Marge thought grudgingly.

"Cabbage," Dudley shuddered. "I hate cabbage."

"**Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, or Tufty again. "We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested. "Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."**

"Damn right, I do." Marge snarled.

**The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there – or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug. "What about what's-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?" "On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia. "You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).**

"Hey, he can't do that!" Dudley cried. "He'll break them using his freaky magic,"

"And if he did, I'll lock him in that cupboard for months," Vernon said nastily.

Petunia shook her head. "He never did it because he went with us to the zoo, remember?"

"Oh, that's right."

**Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon. "And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled. "I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening. "I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "…and leave him in the car…"**

Ripper felt sorry for Harry. And they treated _him_ better than that.

"**That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone…" Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying – it had been years since he'd really cried – but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.**

Petunia gave Dudley a look. "Is this true, popkin?"

Dudley looked down ashamed. "Well…yes…" He didn't know what to say. He'd never been scolded before.

"Come now, Petunia," Marge said looking fondly at Dudley. "He's a growing boy. He has needs."

Petunia sighed. Maybe she and Vernon had spoiled him too much.

"**Dinky Duddydums,**

Dudley winced slightly.

**don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him. "I…don't…want…him…t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gab in his mother's arms. Just then, the doorbell rang – "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them.**

Petunia narrowed her eyes. She'll have to call Piers's mother when this was all over.

**Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside. "I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy – any funny business, anything at all – and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas. **

"Too bad I'd never done it," Vernon sighed, disappointedly.

"**I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly…" But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did. The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen. Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left to "hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. **

Dudley snorted. He still had that memory in his head.

**Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. **

"So, he's already doing magic, eh?" Marge asked with raised eyebrows.

"Not exactly," Petunia said uneasily. "He's been doing accidental magic."

"Accidental magic?"

"That's what the freaks call it. Wizarding children can't control their magic and it pops up every once in a while." Petunia had learned all this from Lily.

Ripper looked up at her suspiciously. He knew that she knew more than she lent on.

**He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he **_**couldn't **_**explain how it had grown back so quickly. **

Magic, Ripper thought.

**Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but it certainly wouldn't fit Harry. **

Dudley smiled. He hated that stupid sweater. He'd had to thank Harry someday. Dudley's eyes widen. What was he thinking? Thanking that spineless git? Never!

**Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished. On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney.** **The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump. **

Sure that happened, Ripper thought, rolling his eyes.

**But today, nothing was going to go wrong. **

"I wish that were true," Vernon muttered.

**It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room. While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles. "…roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them. "I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry remembering suddenly. "It was flying." **

Dudley shook his head. Harry's such an idiot.

**Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!" Dudley and Piers sniggered. "I know they don't," said Harry "It was only a dream." But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was a dream or even a cartoon – they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.**

"Of course, he would," Marge huffed. "He's a criminal just like his parents."

You just found out Lily and James was killed by an evil murderer and you still say they were criminals, Petunia thought angrily.

**It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys brought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they brought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond. **

Dudley glared at the book. _You better sleep with one eye open as soon as you get back Harry…_

**Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little walk apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon brought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.**

"Why did you give it to him?" Marge asked looking at Vernon. "I'd would have thrown that in the garbage."

Vernon shrugged. He didn't know why either.

**Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last. After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. **

Petunia felt goosebumps on her arms. She shivered. She was afraid of snakes.

Ripper gave a silent whimper. He wasn't a big fan of snakes.

**Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can – but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep. Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils. "Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge. "Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on. "This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.**

Dudley sighed. He didn't know what he'd expected the snake to do once it had woken up. Maybe hiss a little?

**Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself – no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.**

"How pathetic, comparing his life to a snake's," Vernon rolled his eyes. "It's not as if he could talk to the thing, anyway."

**The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's. **_**It winked.**_

"Wait, snakes can't wink!" Petunia cried in a slightly shaky voice.

Dudley looked interested. Maybe Harry really could talk to snakes like Dad said…?

**Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too. The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: **_**"I get that all the time."**_

Petunia's eyes seemed like they would pop out at any moment. She was too shocked to speak. Ripper looked a little frightened. Vernon and Dudley's mouths were wide open.

Marge wrinkled her nose. "That boy can talk to snakes? That's disgusting!"

Once everybody had their composure, Dudley continued to read.

"**I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "I must be really annoying." The snake nodded vigorously.**

Dudley looked awe. Talking to snakes? Wicked!

"**Where did you come from, anyway?" Harry asked. The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it. Boa Constrictor, Brazil. "Was it nice there?" The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see – so you've never been to Brazil?" As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T **_**BELIEVE**_** WHAT IT'S DOING!" **

Dudley frowned. So Piers _had_ seen Harry talking to the snake. It was pretty lucky he dismissed it as a trick. It would have been awkward if Piers had realized Harry was _really_ talking to it.

**Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.**

"I didn't waddle! I ran!"

Ripper doubted that.

"**Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened – one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next they had leapt back with howls of horror. Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. **

"That boy," Vernon growled. "When I get my hands on him, he'll wish he was dead!"

**The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits. As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come…Thanksss, amigo." **

Petunia whimpered. The snake could have attacked her Dudley. Thank heavens, that didn't happen.

**The keeper of the reptile house was in shock. "But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?" The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry."**

"Well, damn," Dudley muttered. He'd had forgotten Piers had said that. But then he remembered Piers saying he'd only said that to get Harry into trouble. Dudley signed in relief. At least, Piers doesn't know about his cousin's freaky powers.

**Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go – cupboard – stay – no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy. Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.**

"That freaky boy!" Vernon yelled, outraged. "I told him to stay in his cupboard with no meals and he goes and steals _our _food!"

For some reason, Ripper had the strange urged to bite Vernon. He felt really bad for Harry. He had seen Aunt Marge neglect her other bulldogs…and it was not pretty.

Dudley felt something weird pulling at his heart. He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Harry. Maybe he should've stood up for his cousin. Dudley shook his head irritably. Nonsense! He shouldn't have talked to the snake. Harry deserved it.

Petunia looked ashamed. Maybe they really have gone too far…she signed. Poor Harry…

Marge laughed gleefully. That's what that boy get for being a burden to the beloved Dursley family! If she'd had Harry, she would have done much worse than that.

**He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a binding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. **

Petunia gave a gasp of horror. "He remembers that?" she whispered. That's horrible!

**This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house. **

Actually there is, Petunia thought. The photographs were all hidden in her secret box in her and Vernon's room.

**When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. **

"Weirdos," Marge snorted. "They're worshipping the boy like some kind of hero. He didn't do anything heroic and he never will!"

"Well, he did destroy an evil…_wizard_, Marge," Petunia said.

"But he didn't do anything! The bad thing about that is the damn man couldn't kill the boy."

Petunia glared at Marge and turned to Dudley. "Keep reading."

"The chapter's almost over," Dudley replied.

**The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look. At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.**

"Good," Marge said looking proudly at her nephew. "The freak doesn't deserve any friends. Who would want to be friends with _him _is beyond me."

"Thanks, I guess." Dudley gave a small smile.

Vernon ruffled Dudley's hair. "I agree with Marge," he said. "Only those freaks would befriend him."

"So, who's going to read the next chapter?" Petunia asked, changing the subject. "Vernon? Do you want to read? Dudley and I had already read it."

"Oh, alright then," Vernon answered grudgingly. "I'll read the bloody thing."

He took the book from Dudley, turned to the chapter three, and had begun reading.

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><p><strong>Author's note: Yay, another chapter finished! I hope Dudley and Petunia didn't change too quickly. I'm trying to start them off slowly. Anyway, about the Hunger Games read the Harry Potter books…I'm thinking about bringing Mrs. Everdeen, Effie, Cinna, Finnick, and even President Snow! Well, what do you think? You can also send me messages and give me some of your ideas, too. Anyway, read and review! <strong>


	4. The Letters From No One

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The characters and books belong to J.K. Rowling.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: The Letters From No One<strong>

**The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches. **

Marge chuckled darkly. She would have loved to see that. Though, it would have been better if Dudley had run over one of her cats.

Petunia sent Dudley a look of disapproval and he put his head down in shame.

Ripper wondered how the Dursleys came up with an excuse for Harry's absence from school. Probably told the teachers he was sick.

**Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting.**

Dudley grinned. That game was always fun, seeing Harry cower in fear in front of him and his friends.

**This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. **

Vernon looked proudly at his son. "You know, Dudley, your Aunt Marge had gone to Smeltings herself. Isn't that right, Marge?"

"Yes," Marge said wistfully. "I used go to Smeltings with your father, Dudley." She sighed. "Those were the good times."

"Oh," Dudley replied. "That's great." However, Dudley didn't care about Marge's school life.

**Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny. "They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?" "No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it – it might be sick."**

"That naughty boy," Petunia surprisingly said. "He insulted my Duddykins!"

Dudley frowned. He didn't know what Harry had meant when he said that. And now he knew. Maybe he could stuff Harry's head down the toilet when time resumes to its normal state.

Ripper gave a bark of laughter. Even he knew what Harry had meant!

**Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.**

"Coward," Marge sneered.

**One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.**

"Well, at least she's giving him stale cake," Vernon muttered.

**That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. **

Ripper shuddered. How bland! He was lucky Marge didn't make him wear any of those dog clothes.

**This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He though two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying to not laugh. **

"I'll break his ribs for him," Marge said evilly.

And that'll throw you in prison, Marge, Ripper thought happily.

**There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water. "What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. "Your new school uniform," she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. "Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."**

He has Lily's cheek, Petunia thought sadly.

"**Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished." Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.**

Dudley imaged that scene for a moment and burst of laughing.

"What's so funny?" Petunia asked bewildered.

"Harry wearing elephant skin," Dudley said, laughing.

Vernon had to wait until Dudley stopped laughing. When he did, Vernon continued to read.

**Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat. **

Petunia's eyes widen. She remembered the chapter title. The Letters From No One. It was the day Harry had received over a thousand letters from that freakish school.

"**Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper. "Make Harry get it." "Get the mail, Harry," "Make Dudley get it." "Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley." Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three letters lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and – **_**a letter for Harry**_**.**

"Who'd be writing to _him_?" Marge asked narrowing her eyes.

"_Them_," was all Petunia said.

**Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives – he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake: **

**Mr. H. Potter**

**The Cupboard under the stairs**

**4 Privet Drive**

**Little Whinging**

**Surrey**

"Why are they so painfully accurate?" Dudley asked with distaste.

"I don't know, sweetie," Petunia sighed heavily.

"They're freaks, that's why!" said Vernon nastily.

**The envelope was thick and heavy, made with yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. **

"What era are those wizards living in? The Middle Ages?" Marge joked.

**Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter **_**H**_**.**

Dudley wondered what the animals mean.

"**Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.**

That was the worse joke I have ever heard, Ripper thought disdainfully.

**Harry went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope. Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard. "Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk…"**

Marge turned red. She knew she shouldn't have eaten that damn whelk.

"**Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!" Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon. "That's **_**mine**_**!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back. "Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it.**

"That's what I just asked a few minutes ago!" Marge cried.

**His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge. "P-P-Petunia!" he gasped. Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a chocking noise. "Vernon! Oh my goodness – Vernon!"**

Ripper stared at Vernon and Petunia in astonishment. Goddamn, he thought, all that drama for a letter? Talk about overreacting!

Dudley sighed. And this begins his father's madness...over a letter – no a _lot _of letters.

**They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the with his Smelting stick. "I want to read that letter," he said loudly. "**_**I **_**want to read it," said Harry furiously, "as it's **_**mine**_**." "Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope. Harry didn't move. "I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.**

There goes Lily's temper, Petunia thought.

"How dare that boy shout at me!" Vernon said furiously. "Why I should have locked him in the cupboard for weeks for that!"

"That unnatural boy deserved that," Marge agreed.

"**Let **_**me**_** see it! demanded Dudley. "OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won,**

"Of course he won," Marge said ruffling Dudley's hair. "My nephew is much stronger than that stick of a boy."

"I know, Aunt Marge," said Dudley looking a little embarrassed.

**so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor. "Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address – how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?" "Watching – spying – might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly. **

Well they were spying on you guys in the first chapter, Vernon, Ripper thought. But following you? Come on, I'm sure even wizards and witches got better things to do than to be following boring people like yourselves.

"**But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want –" Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen. "No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer…Yes, that's best….we won't do anything…." "But –" "I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?**

Ripper had always wondered why the Dursleys treated Harry like crap. And now he knew. They tried to get rid of his magical powers! Ripper shook his head sadly. This family doesn't know how to accept different people.

"Fat lot that did," Vernon growled. "I knew we should've sent that boy to the orphanage."

"But Vernon," Petunia said, trying to calm Vernon down. "If we did, then people will find out about his abnormalities and they'll figure out that we're related to him."

Vernon seemed to deflate a little. "Yes, Petunia, dear. You're right."

**That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry in his cupboard. "Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?" "No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it." "It was **_**not**_** a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it." **

Is it just me, Dudley wondered, or is Harry standing up for himself?

"**SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful. "Er – yes, Harry – about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking…you're really getting a bit big for it…we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."**

Dudley growled. He was still pretty pissed about that. And it's entirely his cousin's fault!

"**Why?" said Harry. "Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now." The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Harry one trip upstairs to move everything he owned from the cupboard to this room.**

"Which isn't much, I reckon," Marge said coolly.

**He sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small working, tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog;**

Ripper barked in alarm. He glared at Dudley, a deep growl in his throat. How dare that fat whale of a boy run over a dog! Dudley, who heard Ripper's growl, shifted uncomfortably.

**in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite program had been canceled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched. **

Vernon looked slightly annoyed. He knew Dudley wouldn't read those books but Petunia had insisted on buying books for him.

**From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, "I don't **_**want **_**him in there…I **_**need**_** that room…make him get out…" Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday he'd have given anything to be up here. Today he'd rather be back in his cupboard with that letter than up here without it. Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back.**

Ripper had begun to hate the Dursleys more and more, especially Dudley. They were all selfish, greedy gits who need to go under a rock and die. He'd even begun to hate Marge!

**Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the letter in the hall. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly. When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive –'"**

Dudley cursed himself. "Why didn't I read the stupid thing in the hall?" he muttered under his breath.

**With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand.**

Really, Vernon? Petunia thought, with a sideways glance at him, was all that fighting for one mere letter?

"**Go to your cupboard – I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at Harry. "Dudley – go – just go." Harry walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan. The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights. He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first.**

"Yeah, like that'll work," Dudley said sarcastically.

"It didn't really end well, either," Petunia agreed, remembering the incident.

**His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door – "AAAAARRRGH!" Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat – something **_**alive**_**!**

Ripper looked amused while Vernon growled angrily.

**Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. **

"Smart move, Vernon," Marge praised.

Vernon puffed up with pride.

**He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go and make a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry could see three letters addressed in green ink. "I want –" he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes. Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot. "See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't **_**deliver**_** them they'll just give up." "I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon." "Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with a piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.**

"A fruitcake?" Dudley blinked and looked at his father in confusion. "How did you use a _fruitcake _to knock in a nail?"

Instead of answering his son, Vernon kept reading.

**On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom. Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.**

That is the sign of madness, Ripper thought humorlessly, and you call Harry and his magical world abnormal freaks!

"I told you that wouldn't work!" Petunia snapped, glaring at Vernon.

Vernon glanced at Petunia nervously and looked down at the book in his hand and continued reading.

**On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor. "Who on earth wants to talk to **_**you**_** this badly?" Dudley asked Harry in amazement. **

"That's what I like to know too," Marge huffed in annoyance.

"Those _things_ in Harry's world," Petunia answered icily.

**On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy. "No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspaper, "no damn letters today –** "

"_What a stubborn, idiotic, foolish man," _Ripper barked to no one in particular, "_Doesn't he realize the postman isn't bringing Harry's letters?"_

Petunia looked at Ripper in bewilderment. Why does she sense the dog is talking about the book?

**Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one – **

Dudley frowned. "Why didn't Harry just grab one of the letters off the floor?"

"He's as brainless as a flea," Marge answered, "just like his parents."

"**Out! OUT!" Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor. **

Vernon and Petunia looked at each other. They hope the neighbors didn't see the strange letters inside their house.

"**That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!" He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag. **

Dudley sighed. It was the first and only time his father had hit him.

Ripper looked at Dudley dully. Of course, the boy thought he could fit all of his things in his sports bag. What an idiot, just like his walrus father.

**They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake 'em off…shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this. They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.**

Dudley shook his head. Now he knew how Harry felt when he wasn't allowed to do anything fun.

"Why were you driving half way across Britain?" Marge asked in puzzlement.

"To get away from those monstrous _wizards_," Vernon answered gruffly. "And I wasn't driving half way across Britain."

"Well, you was going to if you had to," Petunia put in.

Vernon simply shrugged.

**Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering…**

Wondering about what? Ripper thought curiously.

**They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table. "'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk." She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address: Mr. H. Potter**

**Room 17**

**Railview Hotel**

**Cokeworth**

"How those bastards managed to find you all the way in Cokeworth?" Marge asked stiffly.

"They're using their _magic_, Marge," Petunia said, saying the world "magic" with a painful expression on her horsey face.

**Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared. "I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following for from the dining room. "Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage. "Daddy's gone mad. Hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon.**

"_Yes, Dudley," _Ripper barked simply. "_Daddy has gone mad over magical letters."_

Dudley looked at Ripper suspiciously. He was sure Ripper was barking to him just now.

**Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared. It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled. "It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a **_**television**_**." Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it **_**was**_** Money – and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television – then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun – last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.**

"Hmph," Marge huffed. "I wouldn't give him anything for his birthdays."

**Still, you weren't eleven every day. Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.**

"Of course, now I know what's in that damn package," Petunia said glaring so furiously at Vernon that if looks could kill, he would've drop dead by now.

Vernon gulped and, fearing his wife's wrath, read on before she did anything to him.

"**Found the perfect place!" he said "Come on! Everyone out!" It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there. "Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!" A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin,**

Petunia shuddered. What an ugly old man he was!

**at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them. "I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!" It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house. The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gabs in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms. Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas.**

"Seriously, Vernon?" Petunia said rolling her eyes. "You really thought those will keep our stomachs full?"

"No," Vernon replied, "just until the wizards stopped hunting us down like bloodhounds."

"Well, that didn't happen at all!"

**He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up. "Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully. He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.**

Vernon frowned. He loved making Harry as miserable as possible but the boy actually agreeing with him….Vernon shuddered. He didn't like that at all.

**As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket. **

Ripper growled lowly. Harry was just a child, for heaven's sake! To treat him like that because he's a wizard was cruel.

**The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now. **

"Well, with all that letter business and the driving, I highly doubt they'll remember," Marge said nastily.

Dudley sighed sadly. He felt a little sympathetic to Harry. He was his cousin after all.

Dudley's hands collided to his head. What was wrong with him? Why did he suddenly care for Harry's wellbeing?

**Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow. **

The Dursleys (minus Marge) looked at each other darkly. When they had gotten back

from the shack, all the letters had gone. They suspected the freaks had come into their house and had made the letters disappear. However, the Dursleys being ignorant to strange and mysterious things like magic had brushed it off.

**Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea? One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds…twenty…ten…nine – maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him – **

"If he had done that, I'll punch him!" Dudley cried, swinging his fists.

**three…two…one…BOOM. The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.**

"That's the end of the chapter," Vernon said, closing the book and putting it down on the table, "finally."

"Can we go to bed?" Dudley yawned. "I'm getting sleepy."

"Alright then," Petunia said, jumping to her feet. "Let's all take a good nap."

She looked in the window. It was still nighttime because of the time-freezing magic. She turned back to the family. She had a lot of thinking to do.

Dudley had turned off the lights and the family went to their rooms. With the exception of Marge and Vernon, they fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: Took me a while to finish this chapter. The next one will be late because I have tests on all my classes at school. So be patient, guys!<strong>


	5. The Keeper of the Keys

**Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own Harry Potter. The characters and books belong to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

><p>Dudley had awoken with a loud yawn. He glanced at the clock next to his bed. 8:30 P.M. It was still dark out there in the world. Dudley wondered how the wizards managed to freeze time. If they could do that and make shooting stars, they could do anything. Dudley had gotten out of bed, went downstairs, and to the living room. He looked at the other Harry Potter books on the table. Did Harry have awesome adventures at his school? What classes do they teach there? Dudley was curious about his cousin's strange world. The world he hated and feared. Suddenly, loud thumping noises had broken his thoughts. Petunia and Vernon was coming down the stairs.<p>

"Dudley," Petunia asked, surprised to see her son awake. He was usually the one to wake up last. "Why're you here?"

"Oh, nothing," Dudley answered, "just looking at the books."

Petunia and Vernon looked at each other with worried looks. What if those books turn Dudley funny? They didn't want that to happen to their son, but what could they do? The family had already read three chapters of the first book. And to make matters worse, if they don't finish reading all the blasted books time will remain frozen forever. Might as well continue reading.

"Well, then," Vernon said uneasily, "let's just eat some dinner – I mean breakfast – oh you know what I mean."

"Not without us," boomed a voice from behind. Marge came stomping down the stairs with Ripper behind her. "We've hadn't eaten since we left home," She turned to Ripper and cooed, "Isn't that right, Ripper?"

"_Of course, Marge," _Ripper barked, "_don't you hear my stomach growling?"_

After Petunia had cooked breakfast (eggs with bacon), they all sat down in the living room. The Sorcerer's Stone lay on perfectly still on the table along with the other books of the series. For a moment, nobody moved. Then Dudley grabbed the book and handed it to Marge.

"C'mon, Aunt Marge," Dudley urged, "you're the only one who didn't read."

Marge sniffed. "You know I don't want to read about that filthy boy."

"Please, Aunt Marge, for me?"

Marge looked at Dudley and sighed. "Fine," she said, grabbing the book, "only for you."

She leafed to chapter four and started reading in a loud voice.

**Chapter Four: The Keeper of the Keys**

**Boom. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake. "Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly. There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the. He was holding a rifle in his hands – **

Petunia gave a sharp glare to her husband. Vernon shifted uncomfortably.

"Petunia, dear," he said fearfully, "I was just doing what I can to get rid of those people."

Petunia opened her mouth to say something, but Marge had continued reading.

**Now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them. "Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn – I'm armed!" There was a pause. Then – SMASH! The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor. A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all that hair.**

"_Hey!" _Ripper barked in astonishment. "_Hagrid the giant is back!"_

"Well, look whose back," Marge said, rolling her eyes. "That hideous man is here in this chapter."

**The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all. "Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey…."**

"Oh yeah, we're sure going to give you tea after you busted through the door," Dudley said sarcastically. However, he couldn't help being amused by Hagrid's entrance.

**He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear. "Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger. Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon. **

And you called the wizards cowards, Ripper thought, sneering.

"**An' here's Harry!" said the giant. Harry looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile. "Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mom's eyes."**

Petunia gave a sad sigh. Those were Lily's eyes.

**Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise. "I demand that you leave at once, sir! he said. "You are breaking and entering!" "Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant; **

Ripper had begun to like Hagrid. Calling Vernon a "great prune" was both satisfying and funny.

"That ugly beast!" yelled Vernon. "How dare that thing insult me!"

**He reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into the corner of the room.**

Whoa, Dudley thought in awe, he must be really strong and powerful to bend a _gun_.

**Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on. "Anyway – Harry," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here – I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right." From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with **_**Happy Birthday Harry**_** written on it in green icing. **

Ripper smiled. It's about time Harry had gotten something for his birthday. He turned to Dudley with hatred in his eyes, instead of that greedy mama's boy.

**Harry looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said instead was, "Who are you?"**

"That boy has no manners whatsoever," Marge said coldly. "Unlike my nephy poo,"

Dudley flushed with embarrassment. First his mother and now his aunt? Didn't they know it's humiliating to call a teenaged boy baby names?

**The giant chuckled. "True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm. "What about that tea than, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind." His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there.**

He must have used some type of fire magic, Ripper thought knowingly.

**It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the warmth wash over him as though he'd sunk into a hot bath. The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid**

"How can he carry all that stuff in his pockets?" Petunia asked curiously.

"Freakish magic," Vernon answered, with a disgusted look on his large face.

**That he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausages. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley." The giant chuckled darkly. "Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry."**

Dudley growled, "I'm not fat! I'm just big boned, that's all!" _Though I'd love to have some pudding right now,_ Dudley added to himself.

**He passed the sausages to Harry, who was so hungry he had never tasted anything so wonderful, but he still couldn't take his eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, he said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are." The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts – yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."**

"He doesn't know a damn thing!" Marge barked. "He's just an idiot boy with no family or friends!"

Ripper wisely kept his mouth shut. If he didn't, he would have bitten Marge on the leg.

"**Er – no," said Harry. Hagrid looked shocked. "Sorry," Harry said quickly. "**_**Sorry**_**?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?" "All what?" asked Harry. "ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!" He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall. **

"_The Dursleys are in trouble now," _Ripper barked happily. "_They've gonna get what they deserved!"_

Petunia shuddered. That was one of the worse moments of her life, getting yelled at by a giant wizard who could do magic.

"**Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that this boy – this boy! – knows nothin' abou' – about ANYTHING?" Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad. "I know **_**some**_** things," he said "I can, you know, do math and stuff."**

The Dursleys, including Ripper, laughed at what Harry said.

"I told you that boy's an idiot," Marge said, chortling.

"Come now, Marge," Petunia said. "The boy was only eleven at the time."

Everyone stopped laughing and turned to Petunia in shock. She, herself, gasped. Did she just unknowingly defend Harry? There was an awkward pause in the room.

Vernon broke the silence. "Marge, why don't you keep reading?"

Without saying anything, Marge obliged.

**But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About **_**our **_**world, I mean. **_**Your **_**world. **_**My**_** world. **_**Yer parents' world**_**." "What world?" Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode. "DURSLEY!" he boomed. Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Harry. "But yeh must know about yer mom and dad," he said. "I mean, they're **_**famous**_**. You're **_**famous**_**."**

Famous for all the wrong reasons, Dudley found himself thinking. There I go again, he thought angrily, I'm defending Harry in my thoughts. Why does this keep happening?

"**What? My – my mom and dad weren't famous, were they?" "Yeh don' know…yeh don' know…" Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare. "Yeh don' know what yeh **_**are**_**?" he said finally. Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice. "Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!" **

"_He's got guts, I'll give him that," _Ripper admitted.

**A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage. "You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?" "Kept **_**what**_** from me?" said Harry eagerly. "STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic. **

"_Now you're just trying to defend yourself, you pathetic creature," _Ripper barked, glaring at the book in Marge's hands.

**Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror. "Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry – yer a wizard." There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard. "I'm a **_**what**_**?" gasped Harry. "A wizard, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."**

Vernon sighed heavily. Petunia was right, what was the point of bringing them all the way to the middle of a sea, just so a wizard could bust in and tell the boy the truth?

**Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr. H Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. He pulled out the letter and read: HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY** **Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of merlin, First class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)**

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, **_**Deputy Headmistress**_**. **

"Witchcraft and wizardry," Marge scoffed. "What a load of dung."

**Questions exploded inside Harry's head like fireworks and he couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"**

"Really?" Dudley asked surprised, "He just found out he's a wizard and he asked that question?" Dudley shook his head. He really doesn't get his cousin.

"**Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl – a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl –**

"How the hell did the owl got in his pocket?" Petunia asked, bewildered. This time Vernon didn't answer her.

**A long quill and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down: Dear Professor Dumbledore, Given Harry his letter. Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well. Hagrid. Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.**

For wizards, I bet it's normal for them, Dudley thought.

**Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly. "Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight. "He's not going," he said. Hagrid grunted. "I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him," he said. "A what?" said Harry, interested. "A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call nonmagic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on." "We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"**

"You know, I'm surprised Harry didn't figure that out when he was eavesdropping on us," Petunia wondered aloud.

Vernon shrugged. He didn't really care about that. He was still upset that they've failed in stamping out the magic in the boy.

"Like I said before," Marge replied. "He's an idiot."

"**You **_**knew**_**? said Harry. "You **_**knew**_** I'm a – a wizard?" "Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "**_**Knew**_**! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that – that **_**school**_** – and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was – a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"**

Ripper looked at Petunia with pity in his eyes. He knew those were words of jealousy. He didn't know what he felt towards her but it was definitely sympathy.

Petunia let out a choked sob. She really did love her sister and misses her dearly, but her jealousy had blinded her. She had wanted to apologize to Lily, but she was too afraid of being rejected. And now it was too late. Lily's dead and she never gotten to say goodbye to her.

**She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years. "Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as – as – **_**abnormal**_** – and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"**

I knew you were jealous, Ripper thought growling, but damn, you didn't have to say that to him.

Petunia frowned. Maybe she had gone a little overboard….

**Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!" "CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!" "But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently. **

"Harry's not going to like this…" Dudley muttered under his breath.

**The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious. "I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh – but someone's gotta – yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'." He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys. "Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh – mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it…"**

Dudley frowned. He wanted to know how Harry survived. Ah, well. At least he'll know half of Harry's tragic past.

**He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with – with a person called – but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows –" "Who?" "Well – I don' like sayin' the name If I can help it. No one does." "Why not?" "Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went…bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…" Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.**

This wizard must be really scary to strike fear into the hearts of the magical world, Ripper thought.

"**Could you write it down?" Harry suggested. "Nah – can't spell it. All right – **_**Voldemort**_**." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this – this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too – some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' of his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches…terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him – an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway."**

"They were in a war or something?" Dudley asked curiously.

"Yes," Petunia answered surprisingly. "For eleven years."

"Why should I care?" Marge asked coldly. "It's _their_ war. It's _their_ problem. Not ours."

"I agree," Vernon said. "Whatever happens in that crazy world means nothing to us normal people!"

Ripper rolled his eyes.

"**Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before…probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em…maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' – an' –" Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn. **

Petunia wrinkled her nose.

"**Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad – knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find – anyway…You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then – an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing – he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh – took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even – but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age – the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts – an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."**

"Blimey…" Dudley couldn't help but say. He felt a little sympathy toward the wizarding world. Those wizards and witches have been through a lot of trouble.

"_Oh my…,_" Ripper barked sadly, "_those poor people._"

**Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before – and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.**

Petunia gasped in horror. He remembers that…_monster's_ laugh?

**Hagrid was watching him sadly. "Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot…" "Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Harry jumped; he had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched. "Now, you listen here, boy," he snarled, "I accept there's strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured – and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion – asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types – just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end –"**

"_You sick son of a bitch_," Ripper snarled at Vernon. "_That's disrespecting the dead!" _

Marge growled, "They've got what they deserved, hanging out with those freakish magical people."

I hate you; Ripper thought, turning to Marge, I really do.

**But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley – I'm warning you – one more word…" In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent. "That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor. Harry, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them. "But what happened to Vol-, sorry – I mean, You-Know-Who?**

"No one knows," Dudley said mysteriously.

"**Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see…he was gettin' more an' more powerful – why'd he go? Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back. Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on – **_**I**_** dunno what it was, no one does – but something about you stumped him, all right."**

"_Go Harry!" _Ripper howled. He didn't know why he was cheering for Harry. Maybe it was because he had started to like the boy.

**Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? He'd spent his life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if he was really a wizard, why hadn't they been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football?**

"Because he's not strong like me!" Dudley cried proudly. "He's just weak!"

"Quite right, Dudley," Vernon beamed at his son.

"**Hagrid," he said quickly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard." To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled. "Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?" Harry looked into the fire. Now he came to think about it…every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry...chased by Dudley's gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach…dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he'd managed to make it grow back…and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn't he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn't he set a boa constrictor on him?**

Well, you didn't exactly set a snake on Dudley, Harry, Ripper thought, matter of fact.

Dudley narrowed his eyes. He'll somehow get back at Harry for that.

**Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him. "See?" said Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts." But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight. "Haven't I told you he's not going?" he hissed. "He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish – spells books and wands and –" "If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled –" "I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.**

"_Uh- oh," _Ripper barked eagerly, "_You're in trouble now, Vernon!"_

"You've gone too far, Vernon," Petunia said, knowing what happened next.

"Perhaps, I did," Vernon replied nervously.

**But he had finally gone too far.**

"That's what Petunia said," Marge stated.

**Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER –" he thundered, " – INSULT – ALBUS – DUMBLEDORE – IN – FRONT – OF – ME!" He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley – there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.**

Dudley clasped his hands on his bottom and whimpered. Petunia jumped up from her seat, ran towards Dudley, and hugged him, whispering comforting words into his ear. Ripper was rolling on the floor, howling with laughter. Vernon turned a shade of purple and Marge stared at the book in shock and anger.

"How dare that giant, freakish, monster gave my poor Dudder's a pig's tail!" Marge yelled, furiously. "When I get my hands on him, I'll –"

"Just keep reading, Marge," Petunia interrupted quietly.

Marge glared at her for a second before continuing to read.

**Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them. Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard. "Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."**

Vernon was gripping the armchair so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

**He cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows. "Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm – er – not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff – one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job –" "Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry. "Oh, well – I was at Hogwarts meself but I – er – got expelled, ter yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything.**

"Ha!" Marge cried triumphantly, "I bet my money that bastard deserved it!"

**But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore." "Why were you expelled?" **

Dudley cocked his head. Despite that pig's tail incident, he was curious to know why Hagrid was expelled.

"**It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that." He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry. "You can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."**

"Ugh, dormice?" Vernon groaned. "What sane person would keep dormice in their pockets?"

"That's the end of the chapter," Marge said, closing the book. "Finally, I'm done reading this damn thing. Who wants to read?"

"I will," Petunia volunteered. She grabbed the book, leafed to chapter five, and started reading.


	6. Diagon Alley

**A/N: Danneyland, You're right. I guess I did make Ripper act non-dog-like. For now on, he'll only growl, huff, whine, and howl; however, I'll still add his thoughts about the book and he may glare or give any looks or expressions at the Dursleys or the books. That is, if you don't mind. And on Ripper being magical…that would be an unexpected twist! Not that I'm going to make him magical, mind you.**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: How many times do I have to say this? I do not own Harry Potter. All belongs to J.K. Rowling.<strong>

**Chapter Five: Diagon Alley**

**Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. "It was a dream," he told himself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my cupboard."**

"I wish it were a dream," Petunia said sadly.

"Don't we all?" Vernon asked.

_**And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door**_**, Harry thought, his heart sinking.**

He's so pessimistic, Dudley thought, shaking his head.

**But he still didn't open his eyes. It had been such a good dream. Tap. Tap. Tap. "All right," Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up." He sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. **

"I'll love to pop that balloon," said Marge gleefully.

**He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat. **

"What does that owl want with the giant's coat?" Dudley asked curiously.

"I don't know, sweetie." Petunia replied shrugging.

"**Don't do that." Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat. "Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl –" "Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa. "What?" "He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. **

"Oh," said Dudley chuckling. He shouldn't have interrupt his mother's reading when his question was answered in just a few sentences.

**Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing **_**but **_**pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags…finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. "Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily. **

"Knuts?" Marge asked, turning to Petunia for an answer.

"Wizard money," Petunia answered dully.

"**The little bronze ones." Harry counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched. "Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school." Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something that made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had just got a puncture.**

"Oh that's right," Marge said cheerfully. "The boy's parents didn't have any…_wizard money_ when they were alive. They were poor, unemployed freaks who got themselves killed."

Ripper was getting tired of Marge's consent insults about Harry's parents. He wanted to bite her leg off, but he held back because the Dursleys would probably kill him.

"**Um – Hagrid" "Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots. "I haven't got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night…he won't pay me to go and learn magic." "Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?" "But if their house was destroyed –" "They didn't keep their gold in the house, boy!"**

"Wait," Vernon raised a hand. "Did he just say 'gold'?"

"Yes," replied Petunia faintly. Lily never told her how rich she and James were. And it was probably for good reasons.

Dudley frowned. He wondered how well off Harry is. He looked at Marge to see what she thinks of this. Apparently, Marge was thinking about stealing Harry's gold for she had a greedy expression on her face.

**Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold – an' I wouldn't say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither." "Wizards have **_**banks**_**?" "Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."**

Petunia narrowed her eyes. She had seen those goblins when she and her parents went with Lily to Diagon Alley to buy her school things. Bloodthirsty creatures, they were.

Ripper whined. Goblins? He didn't like the sound of them.

"Goblins…" Dudley had an expression of wonder and disgust on his round, pinkish face. If goblins were real, then maybe all those magical creatures of those stupid fantasy television shows like dragons and fairies were real too. Dudley couldn't help but smile. Now, that would be pretty cool.

**Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding. "**_**Goblins?**_**" "Yeah – so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe –'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business."**

Ripper wondered what kind of business Hagrid was in.

**Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you – gettin' things from Gringotts – knows he can trust me, see. Got everythin'? Come on, then." Harry followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm. "How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for another boat. "Flew," said Hagrid. "**_**Flew?**_**" "Yeah – but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh." They settled down in the boat, Harry still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.**

Dudley tried to imagine Hagrid flying on a broomstick but failed. Hagrid was too large to fly on one. Dudley shrugged. Maybe Hagrid used magic to fly without the use of a broom.

"**Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Harry another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter – er – speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"**

"He's not supposed to use magic!" Marge cried, pointing at the book accusingly. "He should be punished!"

Vernon nodded with a nasty smile, thinking about the death penalty.

"**Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic. Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.**

Marge looked curiously at Petunia and Vernon. "How did you made it home when they took the boat?"

"That old man saw us stranded on that godforsaken hut and had to get us by another boat," Vernon grunted. "And that bastard charged us extra money!"

"**Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked. "Spells – enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high-security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way – Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat." **

"God," Dudley said softly. "There must be very variable things under there to have such high security."

**Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the **_**Daily Prophet. **_**Harry had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life. "Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page. "There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself. "'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."**

So the magical world have their own government, Ripper thought, like Muggles do.

"**But what does a Ministry of Magic **_**do**_**?" "Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country." "Why?" "**_**Why?**_** Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone." At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Harry folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street. Passersby stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. **

"With Hagrid that big, it's no surprise people stared at him," Dudley said, rolling his eyes.

**Harry couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"**

"Especially, if he keeps doing that," Petunia added.

"**Hagrid," said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "did you say there are **_**dragons**_** at Gringotts?" "Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."**

"That foolish oaf wants a _dragon_," Vernon said with wide eyes. "He's mad!"

"Dragons are real?" Marge asked turning pale.

"**You'd **_**like**_** one?" "Wanted one ever since I was a kid – here we go." They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to Harry so he could buy their tickets. **

Ripper wondered how Hagrid got his hands on Muggle money.

**People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent. "Still got yer letter, Harry?" he asked as he counted stitches. Harry took the parchment envelope out of his pocket. "Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need." Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before, and read:**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Uniform**

**First-year students will require: **

**Three sets of plain work robes (black)**

**One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear**

**One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)**

**One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)**

**Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags**

**Course Books**

**All students should have a copy of each of the following:**

_**The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)**_

**by Miranda Goshawk **

_**A History of Magic **_**by Bathilda Bagshot **

_**Magical Theory**_** by Adalbert Waffling**

_**A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration **_**by Emeric Switch**

_**One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi**_

**by Phyllida Spore**

_**Magical Drafts and Potions**_** by Arsenius Jigger**

_**Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them**_

**by Newt Scamander **

_**The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection**_

**by Quentin Trimble**

**Other Equipment**

**1 wand**

**1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)**

**1 set glass or crystal phials**

**1 set brass scales**

**Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad**

**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS**

Do they really need all _that? _Ripper wondered in astonishment.

"The freaks need all those junk," Petunia said in distaste. "What a waste!"

"Load of rubbish," huffed Marge.

"I couldn't agree more, Marge," Vernon said, looking at the book disdainfully.

"Wow," Dudley blurted out, "those things sound so cool!"

Petunia, Vernon, and Marge gave Dudley a look of utter disapproval but he ignored them. They shared a look of concern out each other. These books will turn their precious boy funny and it's entirely the wizards fault.

"**Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud. "If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid. Harry had never been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow. "I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said**

"We manage just fine, thank you very much!" Petunia huffed.

**As they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops. Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Harry had to do was keep close behind him. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Dursleys had cooked up?**

No Harry, Ripper thought in amusement, the Dursleys have no sense of humor or imagination. So they couldn't pull a joke even if they tried.

**If Harry hadn't known that the Dursleys had no sense of humor, he might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told him so far was unbelievable, Harry couldn't help trusting him. "This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place." It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record store on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it.**

"Only wizards and witches could see it," Petunia said without thinking. When Dudley, Vernon, Marge, and even Ripper looked at her curiously, she said, "_She _told me."

**Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered him inside. For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. **

"_That's_ where wizards do their shopping?" Vernon sneered. "What a dreadful place."

Petunia frowned at this but didn't comment.

**A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut.**

Dudley snorted at the image.

**The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?" "Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry's shoulder and making Harry's knees buckle. "Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Harry, "is this – can this be –?" The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent. "Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter…what an honor." He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.**

"Why are they making such a big deal?" Marge asked in distaste, "the boy just came and they already making such a fuss!"

"He's famous," Petunia answered simply.

So that's what it's like to be famous, Dudley thought, smiling. He always wanted to be famous, to be the center of attention. Of course, there were his parents and his aunt but even that wasn't enough.

"**Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back." Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming. Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron. **

"Attention-seeking git," growled Vernon.

"**Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last." "So proud, Mr. Potter just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle." "I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop." **

He was also mentioned in the first chapter, Ripper thought.

"**He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!" Harry shook hands again and again – Doris Crockford kept coming back for more. **

"Oh, these people really need to get a grip!" Marge said, rolling her eyes.

**A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching. "Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts." "P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrel, grasping Harry's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."**

"He has a stuttering problem," Petunia frowned.

Ripper growled. He didn't know why, but he doesn't trust this wizard. There was something strange about the man that Ripper didn't like.

"**What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" "D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it.**

"If he's afraid of his own subject, then why the hell is he teaching it?" Vernon asked, annoyed at the strange logic.

A wizard who's afraid of the magic he's teaching, Ripper thought, all the more reason not to trust him.

"**N-not that you'll n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter? He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." **

"Did he just say vampires?" Dudley questioned nervously.

"Yes, he did," Petunia said, turning a little pale. Vampires living in wizarding world, where they could attack Muggles and wizards alike? Petunia shivered at the terrifying thought.

**He looked terrified at the very thought. But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble. "Must get on – lots ter buy. Come on, Harry." Doris Crockford shook Harry's hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds. Hagrid grinned at Harry. "Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh – mind you, he's usually tremblin'." "Is he always that nervous?" "Oh yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience…They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag – never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject – now, where's me umbrella?" Vampires? Hags?**

"Those creatures actually exist in their world?" Marge asked faintly.

"I think so," Dudley said, with a slight quiver in his voice. He couldn't blame that stuttering wizard for being scared all the time. What if he met a vampire or a hag? He didn't want to know.

**Harry's head was swimming. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.**

"What's that giant fool doing?" said Marge, with raised eyebrows.

He's opening up the passage way to Diagon Alley, Petunia wanted to say but kept her mouth shut.

"**Three up…two across…" he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry." He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella. The brick he had touched quivered – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider and wider – a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. "Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."**

Vernon and Marge's jaws both dropped while Dudley looked amazed. Even Petunia, who had seen this being done many years ago, looked in awe at the book.

**He grinned at Harry's amazement. **

Harry's parents should have taken him there, Ripper thought sadly.

**They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall. The sun shone brightly on stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons – All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver – Self-Stirring – Collapsible,**

"Why do they have collapsible cauldrons?" Dudley asked confused.

"I have no idea." Petunia said, shrugging.

**said a sign hanging over them. "Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first." Harry wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, **

"Dragon liver," Vernon said, turning a bit green. "How did they manage to get liver out of a dragon?"

Nobody answered him.

**seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad. . . ." A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium – Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand – fastest ever –" There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon….**

For the first time in his life, Dudley wished he was there in Diagon Alley. All the things that were in the place sound really amazing. He wondered if he could ask Harry to take him there someday. Maybe magical people aren't so different from non-magical people…Dudley shook his head angrily. Nonsense! Magical people are weird, abnormal freaks and he certainly didn't want to be one of _them_.

Petunia wished she'd had all that stuff that was mentioned, but unfortunately for her, she wasn't a _witch_.

"**Gringotts," said Hagrid. They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was – "Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a heard shorter than Harry.**

"Midget," said Marge, chuckling.

**He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:**

_**Enter, stranger, but take heed**_

_**Of what awaits the sin of greed,**_

_**For those who take, but do not earn,**_

_**Must pay most dearly in their turn.**_

_**So if you seek beneath our floors**_

_**A treasure that was never yours,**_

_**Thief, you have been warned, beware**_

_**Of finding more than treasure there.**_

Creepy poem, Ripper thought, shuddering slightly.

"I like the poem," Dudley smiled, "it's so creepy."

"Well, I don't," Petunia said, shivering.

"**Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.**

"I'd like to see someone try," Marge said eagerly, "just to see them fail and get killed."

"Who would ever try to rob Gringotts?" Vernon asked. "I know there's treasures down there, but why go through the dangers of robbing it? You'll just die down there."

I can't believe I'm agreeing with Vernon, Ripper thought in astonishment.

**A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Harry made for the counter. "Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe." "You have his key, sir?" "Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits**

Petunia wrinkled her nose.

**over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.**

"Rubies?" said Marge greedily, "how rich are these wizards?"

"**Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key. The goblin looked at it closely. "That seems to be in order." "An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."**

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Dudley asked curiously.

"I don't know," Petunia answered. She also wanted to know what's inside the vault.

"Well, I couldn't careless of what's in that vault," Marge said coldly.

**The goblin read the letter carefully. "Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!" Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall. "What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked.**

"That's exactly what I asked!" Dudley cried in shock.

He's just like Lily, Petunia thought, always had to know everything.

"**Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that." **

That'll just make him more curious, Ripper thought humorously.

**Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in – Hagrid with some difficulty – and were off. At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. **

Dudley was impressed by Harry's memory. If that was him in that cart, he would have forgotten which way he'd gone on the first route.

**The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering. Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late – they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from ceiling and floor. "I never know," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?" "Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick." He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.**

Poor Hagrid, Ripper thought in sympathy, must have been hard for him riding those carts.

Marge and Vernon both laughed gleefully at Hagrid's poor state.

**Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts. "All yours," smiled Hagrid.**

Vernon's eyes widen. "That bloody boy is rich," he growled. "Here we are working our butts off to pay the bills and the ungrateful brat is keeping money all to himself!"

Marge nodded. "We should steal his money and rub it in his face."

"Right you are, Marge."

Petunia rolled her eyes.

**All Harry's – it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking.**

"Damn right," Vernon said angrily.

Ripper seriously doubted that.

**How often had they complained how much Harry cost them to keep?**

How ironic, Ripper thought dully, while the Dursleys complain about Harry costing them money, they're spending a lot of money on their spoiled, pampered son.

**And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London. Hagrid helped Harry pile some of it into a bag. "The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?" "One speed only," said Griphook.**

Dudley frowned. He had a feeling that Griphook was enjoying this.

**They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, **

"Seriously," Petunia said in disbelief, "is he trying to get himself killed?"

"Not that I would mind," Marge muttered to herself.

**but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole. "Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. "If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook. "How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked. "About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.**

"Well, that's harsh," said Dudley uneasily.

"One of the main reasons why wizards don't try to rob Gringotts," said Petunia.

**Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault. Harry was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least – but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. **

"That's it?" Dudley asked in disappointment.

No, Ripper thought, it's what's _inside_ the package that's variable.

**Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask. "Come one, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid. One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Harry didn't know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he'd had in his whole life – more money than even Dudley had ever had.**

Dudley narrowed his eyes. Was that supposed to be an insult? If it is, then he'd have another reason to beat up Harry when they finished reading the books.

"**Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. "Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact." In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. **

Maybe Harry will finally make a friend, Ripper thought happily.

**Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length. "Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?" "Yes," said Harry. "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."**

Never mind, I hate this kid, Ripper thought, growling. He reminds me of Dudley.

**Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.**

Dudley titled his head slightly. Not even he could deny this fact.

And Harry have to go to school with that kid for seven years, Ripper thought, I feel sorry for him.

"**Have **_**you**_** got your own broom?" the boy went on. "No," said Harry. "Play Quidditch at all?" "No," said Harry again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be. **

"Quidditch," Vernon said disdainfully, "what the hell is that?"

"It's their wizarding sport," Petunia answered. "_She_ was talking nonstop about that stupid game."

"Oh."

"_**I**_** do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" "No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.**

"That's because he is," Marge sneered.

"**Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine becoming in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" "Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting. "I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in. "That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts." "Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"**

"Well, he kind of is," Vernon agreed, "doing work for Dumbledore and all that."

"**He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.**

Me too, Ripper thought.

Dudley didn't know whether to like the boy or not.

"**Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of **_**savage**_** – lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tried to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."**

Marge snorted. She could just image that oaf doing something like that.

"**I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly. "**_**Do**_** you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?" "They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy. "Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were **_**our**_** kind, weren't they?" "They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean." "I don't really think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"**

"Those freaks!" Vernon cried. "I say the more normal people there are in a family, the better!"

Petunia furrowed her eyebrows. Lily had said something about this to her after her seventh year at Hogwarts, but she couldn't remember what she said.

Dudley decided that he didn't like the boy at all.

**But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool. "Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy. Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had brought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).**

Dudley licked his lips hungrily. He really wanted ice cream right about now, but thanks to that damn diet, he couldn't eat any sweets.

"**What's up?" said Hagrid. "Nothing," Harry lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote. When they had left the shop, he said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?" "Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know – not knowin about Quidditch!" "Don't make me feel worse," said Harry. He told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's. "– and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in –" "Yer not **_**from**_** a Muggle family. If he'd had known who yeh **_**were**_** – he's grown up knownin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles – look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"**

Petunia looked down guiltily. She hadn't been a good big sister to Lily. She couldn't deny that.

"**So what **_**is**_** Quidditch?" "It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like – like soccer in the Muggle world – everyone follows Quidditch – played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls – sorta hard ter explain the rules."**

It sounds pretty cool, Dudley couldn't help but thought.

"**And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" "School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but –" "I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily. **

"I bet he's in Hufflepuff!" Dudley said, laughing.

"**Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one. "Vol-, sorry – You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?" "Years an' years ago," said Hagrid. They brought Harry's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these.**

"He's right for once," Dudley muttered under his breath.

**Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from **_**Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) **_**by Professor Vindictus Viridian. "I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley."**

Ripper wagged his tail. Now that was something he wanted to see.

Dudley squeaked fearfully. Could Harry really do that? He didn't want to find out.

"If that boy touches my Dudders, I'll break both of his arms!" Marge said aggressively.

"And I'll break his wand, so he couldn't do any magic," Vernon added angrily.

Petunia hugged Dudley. "If that boy tries to curse you, defend yourself. All right,

popkin?"

"All right, mum," Dudley replied gruffly. "Could you let go of me now?"

Petunia let go of Dudley and went back to the book.

"**I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn't work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level." **

Dudley sighed in relief.

**Hagrid wouldn't let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on yer list), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages.**

Petunia gagged. What an awful smell!

**Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. **

Marge wrinkled her nose in disgust.

**While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry's list again. "Just yer want left – oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present." Harry felt himself go red. "You don't have to –" "I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at – an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an everythin'." Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing.**

"That damn owl has been causing trouble since that boy brought her here," growled Vernon.

She's beautiful and a perfect pet for Harry, Ripper thought happily.

**He couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell. "Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys.**

"That's true. We've only gave him worthless rubbish," Petunia said, feeling a little ashamed of herself.

**Just Ollivanders left now – only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand." A magic wand…this was what Harry had been really looking forward to. The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. **

"Wow," said Dudley faintly, "that's a _long_ time."

**A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. **

Dudley wondered how Harry could sense magic. Now that was pretty impressive.

"**Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. **

"He broke the chair," Marge said, stating the obvious.

**An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. "Hello," said Harry awkwardly. "Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."**

"He remembers her wand?" Petunia asked, secretly impressed.

"Must have a very good memory," Vernon muttered.

**Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."**

"How can wands choose wizards?" Marge asked.

Petunia shrugged.

**Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes. "And that's where…" Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands…well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…." He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid. "Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again….Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?" "It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid. "Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern. "Er – yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.**

Something tells me Hagrid's umbrella is really his wand, Ripper thought.

"**But you don't **_**use**_** them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply. "Oh, no sir," said Hagrid quickly. Harry noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke. "Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look.**

"He's on to Hagrid," Dudley said in amusement.

"Well, of course he is," Vernon said. "It was obvious that his umbrella was really his wand."

Oh, you didn't know either, Ripper thought, glaring at Vernon.

"**Well, now – Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"**

"Wand arm?" asked Dudley in bewilderment.

"**Er – well, I'm right-handed," said Harry. "Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head.**

"I don't know why the freaks measure like that," Petunia said, before anyone ask any questions about it.

**As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."**

So, there's more to wands than just being wood, Dudley thought, thinking about all the times he made fun of Harry's wand.

**Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes. "That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beech wood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave." Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try –" Harry tried – but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander. "No, no – here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out." Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair.**

"Lily was just like that, except it didn't take her long to find her wand," Petunia muttered wistfully.

No one but Ripper heard her.

**but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.**

"He must like a tricky customer, then," Vernon grunted. If that was him, he'll quit long ago (not that he'll work in a freakish shop that sells wands. Hell would freeze over when that happens).

"**Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers.**

And the wand chooses, Ripper thought in excitement, Harry Potter!

**He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. **

"All right!" Dudley cheered, without realizing it.

Vernon, Petunia, and Marge stared at Dudley in shock. Why on earth would their Dudley cheer for that Potter brat? Vernon looked at the book angrily. He wanted to burn the books in a fire, but time will remain frozen forever if he'd done that. And he wasn't sure if the person who sent them those bloody books (the person must be a freak) will sent them another set of books.

Ripper, who heard Dudley cheer for Harry, howled in delight.

**Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well…how curious…how very curious…" He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious…curious…" "Sorry," said Harry, "but **_**what's**_** curious?" Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, its brother gave you that scar."**

"Wands can have brothers?" Vernon asked, frowning, missing the point of Harry's wand being brothers with a wand who gave him his scar.

"Oh my," Petunia gasped. She should have paid attention to Lily when she was talking about wandlore with _that boy_.

Knowing something was wrong, Ripper whined.

**Harry swallowed. "Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember….I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter….After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."**

"Is he admiring the bad wizard's deeds?" Dudley asked in horror.

"He's admiring his magic," Petunia answered, though she was a little disgusted at the way Mr. Ollivander had said it.

"Destined for great things," Marge scoffed, "that boy is only destined for getting himself killed, just like his parents!"

"That's right, Marge," Vernon agreed.

Ripper couldn't do anything but huff at the moment. However, he made a mental note to bite Marge and Vernon and run away to live in the magical world after the reading.

**Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Harry didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; he didn't even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the snowy owl asleep in its cage on Harry's lap.**

"They should have arrested them for that," Marge muttered sadly.

**Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped him on the shoulder. "Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said. He brought Harry a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Harry kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow. "You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid. Harry wasn't sure he could explain. He'd just had the best birthday of his life – and yet – he chewed his hamburger, trying to find the words. "Everyone thinks I'm special," he said at last.**

"He's not special to us," Vernon said bitterly.

"**All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander…but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol-, sorry – I mean, the night my parents died." Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile. "Don' you worry, Harry. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts – I did – still do, 'smatter of fact."**

Dudley began to wonder what Hogwarts was like. Was it just like any ordinary school, but a magical one? Did it look like a huge palace or just a small school building? Dudley really wanted to find out.

**Hagrid helped Harry on to the train that would take him back to the Dursleys, then handed him an envelope. "Yer ticket to Hogwarts," he said. "First o' September – King's Cross – it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me…**

Ripper wondered how the owls know where to find the wizard they're giving the letters to. Were they're magical owls that were highly intelligent and know how to read? He guessed he'll find out soon enough.

**See yeh, soon Harry." The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but blinked and Hagrid had gone.**

"That's the end of the chapter," Petunia said, closing the book. "Who wants to read next?"

"Can I read?" Dudley asked eagerly.

Before Petunia said anything, Dudley grabbed the book out of her hand, opened to the next chapter, and begun reading.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I apologize for the long wait. I was really busy with other things. And I also apologize with any grammar mistakes. Anyway, I hope I didn't make Dudley OOC. I want him to gain respect for Harry and learn to accept the magical world slowly. And as usual, read and review!**


	7. The Journey From Platform Nine and Three

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. I also do not own Harry Potter. All belongs to the author of the books, J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters<strong>

**Harry's last month with the Dursleys wasn't fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of Harry he wouldn't stay in the same room, **

Dudley blushed at his cowardly behavior.

"You shouldn't be scared of that prat," said Marge, patting Dudley's shoulder. "With those muscles, _he _should be scared of _you_."

Dudley gave a small smile. "Thanks, Aunt Marge."

**while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything, or shout at him – in fact, they didn't speak to him at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Harry in it were empty. Although this was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while. Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, **

"What a terrible name," Vernon scoffed.

Ripper didn't really hate his name, but he thought Hedwig was a better name than "Ripper". It was such an ordinary and common dog's name.

**a name he found in **_**A History of Magic**_**. His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice.**

"That diseased creature," Petunia shuddered. "I should have never let Harry keep that thing."

"I might let Ripper have some…_fun_ with the bird," Marge said, with evil glint in her eyes.

No, I won't, Ripper thought angrily, and you can't make me!

**Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first. On the last day of August he thought he'd better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room.**

Dudley swore under his breath.

"**Er – Uncle Vernon?" Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening. "Er – I need to be at King's Cross station tomorrow to – to go to Hogwarts." Uncle Vernon grunted again. "Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?" Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes. "Thank you." He was about to go back upstairs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke. "Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?" **

"You'll expect those freaks to fly they're way to school," Vernon snorted, "but no, they take a _train _there."

**Harry didn't say anything. "Where is this school, anyway?" "I don't know," said Harry, realizing this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. "I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," he read. His aunt and uncle stared. "Platform what?" "Nine and three-quarters." "Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters." **

"Actually, there is," Petunia muttered to herself. "And I knew, but I just didn't want to remember."

"**It's on my ticket." "Barking," said Uncle Vernon, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother." "Why are you going to London?" Harry asked, trying to keep things friendly. "Taking Dudley to the hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."**

Vernon grumbled about freaks and their stupid magic.

Dudley squirmed, remembering that day. It was the worse experience of his life (second only to that tongue incident).

**Harry woke at five o'clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn't want to walk into the station in his wizard's robes – he'd change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up.**

"Impatient boy," barked Marge, "unlike my perfect nephew."

Dudley beamed.

**Two hours later, Harry's huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys' car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry, and they had set off. They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face. **

Petunia frowned, knowing where this was going.

"What're you going to do, Vernon," Marge asked, smiling nastily.

Instead of answering, Vernon gestured Dudley to keep reading.

"**Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine – platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?" He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all. **

"It could be invisible," Dudley guessed, thinking about the Leaky Cauldron.

Ripper stared at Dudley in shock. For once, he's using his brain!

"It is," said Petunia.

"**Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Harry turned and saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing.**

Marge burst into laughter. "I wish I was there; would've been one of the best days of my life!"

Petunia turned to Vernon and said in a low voice so that only he could hear,  
>"Did you have to leave the boy alone at the station? There were people at the station, you know."<p>

Vernon had the decency to look ashamed.

**Harry's mouth went rather dry. What on earth was he going to do? He was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Hedwig. He'd have to ask someone.**

Bad idea, Ripper thought.

**He stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when Harry couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Harry was being stupid on purpose.**

What an idiot, Dudley thought, rolling his eyes. Why would he ask a normal person where Hogwarts was?

**Getting desperate, Harry asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. Harry was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, he had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and he had no idea how to do it; he was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl.**

Petunia sighed. She wondered what Lily would say about the treatment of her son.

**Hagrid must have forgotten to tell him something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten. At that moment a group of people passed just behind him and he caught a few words of what they were saying. "– packed with Muggles, of course –" Harry swung round. The speaker was a plumb woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. **

"Great," Vernon groaned, "it's those Weasley freaks."

"You know them?" Marge asked curiously.

"Unfortunately, we do."

Marge wondered how her normal family could have known those _things_, but she decided not to ask, figuring she'll learn about it from the book.

Dudley gave a fearful squeak, remembering those horrid twins that gave him that damn "candy".

**Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry's in front of him – and they had an **_**owl**_**. Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying. "Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother. "Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go…" "You're not old enough, Ginny, no be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first." What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. Harry watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it – but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished. **

"What the hell happened to him?" Vernon asked, looking confused.

"He went through the wall between the platforms," Petunia said, in a voice so low Vernon couldn't hear her.

Dudley frowned. Did the boy use magic to disappear? Dudley shook his head. No, the station was packed with Muggles, so he couldn't have used magic in such a crowded place.

"**Fred, you next," the plump woman said. "I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you **_**tell**_** I'm George?"**

"What a disrespectful little brat!" Petunia cried in outrage.

Marge crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. "If I were that woman, I'll slap him."

"**Sorry, George, dear." "Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone – but how had he done it?**

Just ask the boys' mother, Ripper thought encouragingly.

**Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier – he was almost there – and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere. There was nothing else for it. "Excuse me," Harry said to the plumb woman. "Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. **

Dudley sniggered and Vernon snorted at the description.

Ripper hoped Harry and the freckled boy will be friends. It'll do Harry some good to have someone who got his back.

"**Yes," said Harry. "The thing is – the thing is, I don't know how to –" "How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded. "Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron." "Er – okay," said Harry. **

"Is that how the wizards get onto platform nine and three quarters?" Dudley asked.

Petunia nodded.

**He pushed his trolley around and started at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk toward it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that barrier and then he'd be in trouble – **

I hope he does, Marge thought, smirking.

**leaning forward on his cart, he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn't be able to stop – the cart was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn't come…he kept running…he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sigh overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words **_**Platform Nine and Three-Quarters**_** on it. He had done it.**

Before he could stop himself, Dudley smiled. He felt strangely happy for Harry.

**Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again." "Oh, **_**Neville**_**," he heard the old woman sigh.**

Dudley chuckled and Marge merely rolled her eyes.

**A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. "Give us a look, Lee, go on." The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.**

Petunia turned a bit white. Why would _any_ have a spider for a pet?

**Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.**

Marge sniggered.

"**Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins he'd followed through the barrier. **

Vernon growled. He really wanted to break those twins' neck for what they did to his son.

Dudley whimpered. Petunia was about to go comfort him, but he shook his head and continued reading.

"**Yes, please," Harry panted. "Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" With the twins' help, Harry's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment. "Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. "What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar. "Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you –?" "He **_**is**_**," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry. "What?" said Harry. "**_**Harry Potter**_**," chorused the twins. "Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am." The two boys gawked at him, and Harry felt himself turning red.**

Vernon nodded his head. "See? I told you the boy was an attention-seeking git."

Ripper wondered how thick-headed Vernon is. It's obvious the child doesn't like being in the spotlight.

**Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door. "Fred? George? Are you there?" "Coming, Mom." With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Harry sat down next to the window where, half hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying.**

"He's eavesdropping again," Marge barked. "What a nosy little filth."

**Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief. "Ron, you've got something on your nose." The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose. **

Dudley winced. His mother always does that when the family was about to have an important event.

"_**Mom**_** – geroff." He wiggled free. "Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins. "Shut up," said Ron. "Where's Percy?" said their mother. "He's coming now." The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Harry noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter **_**P**_** on it. **

"He must think he's really important with that badge on," said Petunia, frowning.

"Big-headed git," said Dudley under his breath.

"Well, he's not important," Vernon huffed. "Badge or no badge."

"**Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have two compartments to themselves –" "Oh, are you a **_**prefect**_**, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea." "Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once –" "Or twice –" "A minute –" "All summer –" **

Dudley snorted. He didn't want to admit it, but the twins were quite funny – if they're not pulling pranks on _him_ that is.

"**Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect. "How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins. "Because he's a**_** prefect**_**," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term – send me an owl when you get there." She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins. "Now, you two – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or –" "Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet." "Great idea though, thanks, Mom."**

Never give a prankster ideas, Petunia thought, shuddering. She had learned this the hard way when she had met James Potter.

"**It's **_**not funny**_**. And look after Ron." "Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."**

"No, he's not," Dudley said, shaking his head. "It's never safe when those twins are around."

"**Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it. "Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" Harry leaned back quickly so they couldn't see him looking. "You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?" "Who?" "**_**Harry Potter!**_**" Harry heard the little girl's voice. "Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see him, Mom, oh please…." "You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. **

Ripper agreed with the woman.

**Is he really, Fred? How do you know?" "Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there – like lightning." "Poor **_**dear**_** – no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform." "Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?" **

"No," Petunia said. "He hardly remembers that night."

**Their mother suddenly became very stern. "I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school." "All right, keep your hair on." A whistle sounded. "Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry. "Don't, Ginny, we'll send you louds of owls." "We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat." "**_**George!**_**" "Only joking, Mom."**

"No, he's not," said Dudley.

Marge sniffed disdainfully. "Such naughty boys. Glad I don't have kids."

**The train began move. Harry saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved. Harry watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to – but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.**

Of course, Ripper thought, anything is better than the Dursley family.

**The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in. "Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full." Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Harry saw he still had a black mark on his nose. **

"He's so observant," said Petunia.

Nobody could tell if she was being sarcastic (which is really rare for Petunia) or she was actually _praising _Harry.

"**Hey, Ron." The twins were back. "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there." "Right," mumbled Ron. "Harry," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then." "Bye," said Harry and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them. "Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out. Harry nodded. "Oh – well I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got – you know…" He pointed at Harry's forehead.**

"That kid lacks tack," said Marge.

Petunia wondered why Marge cared about having tack. She lacks tack as well.

**Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. "So that's where You-Know-Who –?" "Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it." "Nothing?" said Ron eagerly. "Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else." "Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. "Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him.**

Dudley wished he was there to intimidate Ron. He couldn't let Harry have any friends, but he knew it was way too late for that.

"**Er – yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him." "So you must know loads of magic already." The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about. "I've heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"**

They're mean and nasty, Ripper thought, glaring at the family with hatred. And not to mention boring.

"**Horrible – well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though.**

"He should be grateful," said Vernon aggressively. "We gave him clothes, food, and a roof over his head and this is how he repays us? You were right, Marge. We've should have sent him to the orphanage!"

"Of course, I'm right," said Marge smugly.

Petunia didn't know whether to agree or not. While she did believe Harry should be more grateful, they did treat him like dirt.

Dudley thought about all the times he was mean to Harry and felt a wave of shame hit him. Wow, he thought, we really were too harsh on Harry. Then he shook his head. No, that git deserved it. He was a freak after all. Dudley sighed. He didn't know what to believe anymore.

**Wish I'd had three wizard brothers." "Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat." **

Petunia knew exactly how that feels. To be overshadowed by a sibling that was better than you. Yes, this boy has a lot to live up to.

This was one of the things that made Dudley glad he didn't have any siblings.

**Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. **

Petunia wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"**His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff – I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window. Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford on owl. After all, he'd never had any money in his life until a month ago, and he told Ron so, all about having to wear Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up. "…and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort –" Ron gasped. "What?" said Harry. "**_**You said You-Know-Who's name!**_**" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed.**

"What are these freaks, cowards?" said Marge. "It's just a name!"

"Right," Vernon agreed. "There's no need to be scared of a name."

"**I'd have thought you, of all people –" "I'm not trying to be **_**brave**_** or anything, saying the name," said Harry, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn….I bet," he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class." **

"I bet he is," said Dudley coolly.

"**You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough." While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep.**

"Where's Hogwarts, anyway?" Vernon asked suddenly, looking at Petunia for an answer.

Petunia shrugged. "_She _never told me."

**They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past. Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?" Harry, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to his feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor. He had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry – **

"Wizards don't have Mars Bars," said Dudley, "do they?"

"No," Petunia replied.

**but the woman didn't have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. **

"Freak food," Vernon scowled.

Dudley sighed in longing. All those sweets sounded so good. He hadn't had any candy ever since his summer break had started. Dudley thought for a moment. Maybe he could sneak into Harry's room and see if he had left any sweets there. Dudley was pretty sure those candies the twins had given him wasn't in Harry's room, since one of the twins (or was it Fred?) had dropped they're prank candies in the living room.

**Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts. Ron stared as Harry brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat. "Hungry, are you?" "Starving," said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef." "Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on –" "You won't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."**

Another reason why Dudley was glad he was an only child (besides Harry, but he doesn't count as a sibling).

"**Go on, have a pasty," said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all Harry's pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten). **

And the friendship was formed, Ripper thought unsurprised, through food. He hoped Harry could make more friends.

"**What are these?" Harry asked Ron, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not **_**really**_** frogs, are they?" He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him. "No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa." "What?" "Oh, of course, you wouldn't know – Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect – famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."**

Magical people have trading cards, Dudley thought in shock, just like normal people. He was finding it harder and harder to hate the wizarding world.

**Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache.**

"He sounds familiar," said Marge thoughtfully.

"It's that freak, Dumbledore," said Petunia dully.

**Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore. "So **_**this **_**is Dumbledore!" said Harry. "Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa – thanks –" Harry turned over his card and read: **

**Albus Dumbledore**

**Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts**

**Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling. **

"Twelve uses of dragon's blood," said Vernon. "First liver of a dragon and now blood? What the hell is up with those weirdos?"

"He defeated another dark wizard?" Dudley asked in interest. "If he did that in 1945, then how old is he?"

Petunia answered, "Based on his long beard, I guess he's very old."

"He enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling?" Marge said in disbelief.

**Harry turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared. "He's gone!" "Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron. "He'll be back.**

"You mean wizarding photos could move?" Dudley asked, shocked.

"Yes," said Petunia. She had seen one of those Chocolate Frog cards move when she had snuck into Lily's room to see some of her magical things. Needless to say, she'd never went into Lily's room again.

**No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her…do you want it? You can start collecting." Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped. "Help yourself," said Harry. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos." "Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "**_**Weird!**_**"**

"That's not weird," said Vernon, "that's normal."

"Unlike those wizards and their stupid powers," Marge added.

**Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave him a small smile. Ron was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Harry couldn't keep his eyes off them. Soon he had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. He finally tore his eyes away from the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.**

Ripper had a strange feeling the beans were in _every _flavor.

"**You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry. "When they say every flavor, they **_**mean**_** every flavor – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and triple. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once."**

"Ewww," said Petunia, turning green. "That is disgusting!"

Dudley decided to skip the Every Flavor Beans when he sneaks into Harry's room.

**Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner. "Bleaaargh – see? Sprouts." They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper. **

Harry got lucky, Ripper thought in amusement.

**The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-face boy Harry had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He looked tearful. "Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all? When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" "He'll turn up," said Harry.**

"I doubt it," Marge murmured.

"**Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him…" He left. "Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap. "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust.**

Vernon snorted.

"**I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…" He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end. **

Dudley wondered how the wand got into that condition. Charlie must have been in some magical fights or something for the wand to get like that.

"**Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway –" He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.**

"This girl is annoying," groaned Marge.

"She sounds like a know-it-all," Dudley said, rolling his eyes.

"**We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down. Ron looked taken aback. "Er – all right." He cleared his throat. **_**"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid fat rat yellow."**_

Ripper wondered if that really was a spell. It sounded like a made-up spell.

"I bet it won't work," Vernon sneered.

**He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep. "Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"**

Dudley gasped for breath. "Damn, this girl can talk!"

"It's official," said Marge, "this girl – Hermione Granger – is annoying."

She may be annoying, Ripper thought, but she seems very bright. And she might befriend Harry and Ron, somehow.

**She said all this very fast. Harry looked at Ron, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either.**

Petunia couldn't help being impressed by this.

"**I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered. "Harry Potter," said Harry. "Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in **_**Modern Magical History**_** and **_**The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts **_**and **_**Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century**_**."**

"As if the boy isn't big-headed already, they have to go and write books about him," said Vernon, glaring daggers at the book Dudley was holding.

"**Am I?" said Harry, feeling dazed. "Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad….Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.**

Thank God, Marge thought in relief, she was starting to get on my nerves.

"**Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."**

"Of course, it was a dud," Petunia said, putting one hand to her forehead. "How gullible can Ron be?"

"**What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry. "Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw **_**would**_** be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin." "That's the house Vol-, I mean You-Know-Who was in?" "Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed. "You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter," said Harry, trying to take Ron's mind off houses.**

He's such a sweet boy, Ripper thought sadly, too bad the Dursleys refused to see it

"**So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" Harry was wondering what a wizard did once he'd finished school. "Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the **_**Daily Prophet**_**, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles – someone tried to rob a high security vault."**

"Someone did?" Vernon asked his eyes wide. "Who would be mad enough to rob a high security vault in a freaky bank?"

Petunia frowned. It could have been anyone in the Leaky Cauldron. They must be very powerful if they tried to rob Gringotts.

Ripper grew suspicious. He remembered that shady character, Professor Quirrell. Maybe he was the one who tried to rob Gringotts. He may act like a nervous, stuttering man, but Ripper knew something was up. How Quirrell had done it, he didn't know. Ripper had to keep his ears open for any suspicious behavior from Quirrell.

**Harry stared. "Really? What happened to them?" "Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."**

Dudley looked excited. A mystery already? That's so cool!

**Harry turned this news over in his mind. He was starting to get a prickle of fear every time You-Know-Who was mentioned. He supposed this was all part of entering the magical world, but it had been a lot more comfortable saying "Voldemort" without worrying. "What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked. "Er – I don't know any," Harry confessed. "What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world –" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers **

Dudley looked was growing more and more curious about Quidditch. Could it possibly better than Muggle sports? He'd just have to wait 'til a chapter about the sport shows up.

**and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Harry through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time.**

"Who is it this time?" said Petunia wearily.

**Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. **

Great, Ripper thought angrily, it's that jerk again. And things were going so well, too.

"**Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" "Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.**

Dudley raised an eyebrow. That boy sounds a lot like him, except he didn't need bodyguards to hide behind.

"**Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."**

"Well, it's true," said Marge ignoring the insult that was thrown at Ron.

**He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."**

"He thinks Harry would go on his side after that insult?" Dudley said, shaking his head. "He's not too bright, is he?"

"No," Vernon said, nodding his head in agreement.

**He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.**

You tell him, Harry! Ripper thought, wagging his tail in excitement.

**Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."**

"That nasty little brat!" Petunia cried in outrage. "How dare he say that!"

Ripper really wanted to sink his teeth in Malfoy's neck. He's worse than Dudley, Ripper thought furiously.

Dudley wanted to punch that two-faced bastard in the face. He felt strangely protective of Harry and it scared him.

**Both Harry and Ron stood up. "Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair. "Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered. "Unless you get out now," said Harry, more bravely than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than him or Ron.**

Dudley frowned. He'd never seen Harry stand up for himself when he and his gang were picking on him. Maybe there was a lot more to the scrawny boy than he thought.

"**But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron – Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell. Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle – Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once.**

"Wow," Dudley said in amazement. "That rat finally did something useful."

"But he's still nasty," said Petunia.

**Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in. **

"Not her again," Marge grumbled.

"**What **_**has**_** been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail. "I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No – I don't believe it – he's gone back to sleep."**

"What a lazy, no-good rat," Vernon ranted.

Well, he did save Harry and Ron's candy, Ripper thought, so I guess he deserve some rest after he hit the window.

**And so he had. "You've met Malfoy before?" Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley. "I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?" "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you?" You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"**

"She sounds like she's worried about them," said Vernon annoyed.

"**Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?" "All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"**

Dudley chuckled at this.

**Ron glared at her as she left. Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. He and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron's were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them. A voice echoed through the train: 'We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." Harry's stomach lurched with nerves and Ron, he saw, looked pale under his freckles.**

"What're they so nervous about?" Marge asked hotly.

Nobody answered her

**They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor. The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" **

"Three guesses who it is," said Petunia.

"It's that huge, oafish freak Hagrid," said Vernon.

**Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. "C'mon, follow me – any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice. "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."**

Dudley looked excited. He was about to read what Hogwarts looked like. Believe it or not, he'd always wondered what Hogwarts and its classes were like.

**There was a loud "Oooooh!" The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.**

"Harry's school is a huge _castle_?" Dudley asked in utter amazement. Hogwarts sounded beautiful and magical (which of course it is). He really wanted to be there with Harry, learning magic in a castle.

Petunia looked at the book in awe. Now she knew what Hogwarts was really looked like. She had heard about Hogwarts from Lily but it was nothing compared to the description the book gave.

Ripper wagged his tail. He had wanted to run around and play in a huge place, since Marge's home wasn't too big. Maybe one day, he'll get a chance to visit the castle. I wondered if there are magical dogs in the wizarding world, Ripper thought.

Even Vernon and Marge were impressed.

"**No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione.**

Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione are destined to be friends, Ripper thought happily, why else would they be in the same boat?

"**Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then – FORWARD!" And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.**

Petunia loved the description the book gave. She could easily imagine herself there at Hogwarts. She sighed wistfully. She couldn't goto Hogwarts, but she could still imagine being there.

"**Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a king of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. "Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them. "Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.**

"He named the toad Trevor?" Vernon said.

"I can't believe that toad had made it that far without getting found," said Marge.

**Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.**

"That's the end of the chapter," said Dudley closing the book. "Dad, could you read next?"

"Oh, all right," Vernon replied, taking the book and leafing it to the next chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: It's been a long wait, hasn't it? I don't know how long the chapters are going to be (they're pretty long by the looks of it.). Oh, and I was correcting typos and grammatical errors. That's why you guys were seeing several chapters. I apologize for that and I won't do it again. **

**I doubt Vernon or Marge will ever change. Vernon might have a tinge of shame or regret and he might grow to respect Harry but he will always hate and fear the magical world. Marge will **_**never **_**change. She's the Muggle version of Umbridge and that's saying something! She's cruel and heartless (she drowned a puppy, for heaven's sake! Remember that in book three?) But, who knows? Maybe she'll start to respect Harry and his parents (when hell is a frozen wasteland), but like I said who knows? I'm sorry if the rant sounded mean. I was just trying to make a point.**

**I have a new story! It's called A Different Hunger Games. It's a Harry Potter and Hunger Games crossover but with OC characters (the OC characters will be magical) with a few mentions of the original characters from Harry Potter. Here's the plot: Two magical teenagers finds a portal to an alternative dimension and they get sucked in it and gets sent to Panem. I'll really love it if you guys and read it and review it. And also read and review this story!**

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